


cursed is the fool who's willing (holy hands, will they make me a sinner?)

by reas_of_sunshine



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: ...its gandra, ...sorta, Bisexuality, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Improvised Sex Toys, Light Angst, Nonbinary Character, One-Shot, Pegging, Post-Episode: s03e14 The Split Sword of Swanstantine!, not porn without plot buuut porn with a smidgen of plot and lots of feels underneath, not relevant to the fic but you need to know both gandra and fenton are bi, their relationship hasn't been clarified let's say they've been lowkey dating this whole time sooo, wanna know how they go together??? click the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27480700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reas_of_sunshine/pseuds/reas_of_sunshine
Summary: After an especially rough week, Fenton and Gandra find comfort in each other. Secrets are kept and passion is shared.
Relationships: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gandra Dee
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	cursed is the fool who's willing (holy hands, will they make me a sinner?)

**Author's Note:**

> ...i don't have to explain myself to you

To say that Fenton had a rough week was an understatement. What with all the Gizmoduck business — and now helping his St. Canardian counterpart with new gadgets and upgrades galore — he had spent only about an hour or so in the lab. Which was a shame because he had lists upon lists of things he wanted to work on, not to mention Dr. Gearloose had given him an actual desk! And presented him with a framed certificate! A falsified certificate and the frame from the dollar store, sure, but it gave Fenton hope nonetheless. 

What else gave him hope was how he spent his Friday nights. No matter how eventful, or uneventful, the work week was, he could find solace in the apartment furthest back of Beak Pointe Townhomes.

He adjusted his blazer one last time, twirling his spare key around his finger before turning it into the lock.

Fenton managed a few mere steps inside before the front door slammed shut, one arm was twisted behind his back and an electric shock danced near his neck. Not exactly the warm welcome he was expecting. He knew his girlfriend was rough, but—

“Oh! It’s you!”   
  
“How many robbers have a key, Gandra?!” 

Gandra let him go, wincing as she watched him gently rub at his arm. “I mean, smart ones—” She trailed off when she noticed his confusion. “What are you doing here? You didn’t get my text?” 

“What text?” It was now Fenton’s turn to trail off.

While he reached for his phone to find the aforementioned text, he was too busy looking at how his girlfriend was dressed. Or lack thereof, for that matter. He had seen Gandra in this state before, of course. But one could stare at several sunsets and still be in awe of each one everytime. That was him as he took in her form, her white tank top and dark green boxers not leaving much to the imagination, the casualness perfectly blending with her subtle muscles…

The glow of his phone screen pulled him away.

Oh.

Gandra had asked him to stop by later in the evening instead of their usual seven o’ clock.

“I can— I can come back later,” he awkwardly offered, finally remembering what words were.

“You’re already here,” she retorted, with a smirk and an eyeroll. Fenton noticed the usual blue tint to her eyes were no longer there. “You can stay. Sorry you caught me in the middle of laundry day,” She chuckled a bit as his stammers continued and added, “But I don’t think you’re too bothered,”

Fenton wrung his hands before clearing his throat and composing himself. Making himself at home. Her apartment was becoming more and more familiar to him. Not just a place he had the privilege of visiting every and now then, it was where he spent nearly half his time. After he hung up his jacket, he reclined on the couch while Gandra fussed about — putting out her cigarette, pretending she totally didn’t smoke, laundry basket on her hip and a beer bottle in the other hand.

Who needed date night when this was more than enough?

She hummed to herself as she went about her apartment — it was nice to know they both preferred the method of organized chaos. Fenton could sit here all night and just watch Gandra in action… and as he did so, he noticed how weary she seemed.

He got up, heading her way to hug her from behind when her humming morphed into grumbling.

“Guess we both had a rough week?” he murmured, brushing some of her hair back to kiss her cheek.

Gandra let out a soft huff. “Yeah,” Her voice was soft for only a moment, before frustration popped up. “I swear,  _ if one more pocket is full of sand _ —”

“Sand?” Fenton chuckled. “Did you spend some time at the beach during your European research week?”

She screwed her eyes shut. She kicked the washing machine so the red folder resting between it and the kitchen counter slipped down to the floor, in an unreachable crevice. That was her excuse of the month. A little tech research here and there.

Not a complete lie either.

“Yeah. And I’m pretty low on energy,”

Not a lie at all. Her nanites were wiped. She was due for an upgrade, she was promised one, especially after the eye socket incident. She felt pretty drained, if she had to endure one more exciting thing, she’d probably crash. Gandra already felt like she could sleep for a solid day.

And Fenton knew how it was for her.

Partially.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “We can stay in tonight, if you want. The whole weekend, even,”

He was so sweet. And so oblivious. She wanted to smack it out of him for— for— She startled herself by smacking the washing machine door shut. Must have jumped too, as Fenton’s arms around her slightly tightened. He turned her around, cupping her face. Smiling like he was holding the whole world in his hands. Little did he know he was holding it’s demise.

But Gandra didn’t want to focus on her guilt or exhaustion.

It was the weekend. It was just her and Fenton. There were a thousand other things out there, but here, it was just them and the next few days.

“Staying in sounds nice,” she admitted, grinning when he pressed a soft, quick kiss to her mouth in reply.

She returned it with a deeper, firmer kiss that had him stumble back a bit into her dryer, squeaking a bit when she wrapped her arms around his waist. Fenton fumbled before he returned the action, pulling her in close and leveling out the degree of passion between them.

He laughed softly when they pulled apart; “You missed me, huh?”

Gandra shrugged a bit. “Only a little,” She reached up to tousle his hair, feeling everything melt away when he leaned into her touch, still looking at her in adoration.

So of course her only natural instinct was to combat that with snark.

“You think the city will survive one weekend without Gizmodork?”

“Positive,” he assured, her teasing now becoming more of a term of endearment. “Besides, Darkwing can always step in for the petty Duckburg crime. Nothing compared to St. Canard’s shenanigans,”

Gandra placed a finger under Fenton’s beak and raised an eyebrow. “Spending all your time in another city with a hot new superhero? Should I be jealous?” she joked—draping the finger over his lips when he opened his mouth to reply. “I know he’s got a boyfriend and kid. Jokes, Fen,”

“Heh. Right,” 

She couldn’t help herself, though. His kindness, softness, overall  _ goodness _ made her want to try and be the same.

As impossible as that seemed somedays.

Gandra leaned in and kissed his forehead, enjoying the cute little sigh he gave in response. She decided to play with the cards she was given. She may have been drained, but she still had a small, natural spark or two left inside.

“You had a rough week, huh?” She went back to playing with his hair, placed another kiss on his face, this time his cheek.

Fenton blushed. “Oh, just the usual. I can’t complain,”

Gandra shook her head. “You look tired,”

“I’m always tired. Comes with being a part time superhero and full time scientist,”

His words melted away as her mouth landed on his again, their limbs tangling as they made moves to touch the other—not even sensually, just for the sensation, for the knowing they had what felt like a lack, a missing piece. Not to say the touches didn’t eventually morph into something more. Fenton’s yelp was quiet when Gandra’s hand went straight for his tailfeathers, giving a playful yank.

And when he pulled away, he noticed her subtle lower lip bite.

“You said you were exhausted,” he noted. “We don’t have to—”

Was that the highlight of their Friday nights? Yes. Was it an occurrence every week? No. And that was completely fine. At this point in their relationship, it was clear that this was more than just sex.

Gandra paused. “I want to take care of you,” she said softly, like someone was listening in. Like if she spoke too loudly, everything would rear it’s ugly head and ruin everything wonderful that she had right in front of her.

The softest  _ “oh” _ slipped out of Fenton’s lips and he looked at her bashfully.

He had no words, and she had too many.

They merged the gap by meeting in another kiss, her arms around his waist and his hands gently gripping her shoulders. While her apartment sported luxury, it lacked size. Only a few stumbles and steps took them to her bedroom, dimly lit with blue string lights and her bed already unmade due to Gandra’s argument her concentration could be used elsewhere.

She yanked Fenton’s tie right by it’s knot, unraveling it—she’d have to compliment it later, black was a good switch up, and made him look  _ sophisticated _ —tossing it who knows where. As she began fumbling with his buttons, kissing and nibbling his chest the more that was revealed, his hand gently crept at the seam of her boxers. 

His labored breaths managing to make a statement, “Can I touch you?”

She smiled against his collarbone and nodded. “Yeah,” Her voice just as breathless. It really had been a long week for both of them. “You can. Just leave ‘em on,”

He obliged and dove in. His fingers knew her body well, coaxing her dampness out into a slow flood. Gandra softly groaned at his dexterity. Of course he was good with his hands, he was a fucking inventor—she smirked at the brief thought of catching him alone in the lab, maybe—

_ “Fuck!” _

Her slip up got a chuckle out of him and she shook her head. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” 

Her words morphed into a moan, her hands wringing into the closest thing nearby: the fluff of his chest feathers. She grinned almost wickedly when her instinctive moment got a whimper out of him, and she could feel his hardness had finally peaked out. Curious and pressing against her inner thigh, already wanting release.

She had an idea.

Gandra grabbed his wrist, slowly easing his hand away from her.

“What—” Fenton paused as he watched his girlfriend suck his fingers clean, blinking slowly, like that would help him take all in. 

She finished it off with a sweet kiss to his knuckles. “I  _ told  _ you,” she insisted. “Let me take care of you,”

He nodded quickly, succumbing to the way she cradled his face before pulling him in for another kiss. A mere distraction as one hand traveled South on his body, the other fumbling around to wherever her bedside drawer was. F enton groaned, and Gandra smirked, when her fingers found his opening. She teased at it, making him both more pliable and excited all at once. She really didn’t want to get up and actually look for—

“ _ Gotcha _ ,” she whispered.

It piqued Fenton’s interest when she sat up, keeping a hand on his chest: not just using him as support but also to remind him that  _ she  _ was on top. He was going to let her relieve all his frustrations, past and present, figurative and literal. Not that they ever had power struggles, but it was a nice little high she was going to ride for the evening.

And as for what Fenton was going to ride, well… that was in her hand.

From her wrist, she draped a harness and dildo attached and she indulged in the blissed out, flustered expression he had once it sunk in.

“It  _ has  _ been a while,” he mused, moans falling in between his words at her ministrations, her gentle probing between his legs, the fact he could feel the gentle shock of her fingers, what was left of her energy being used to pleasure him. And she knew his guilty pleasure, his unspoken preference of being below her, his desire to be the one who would become undone.

Gandra gently shushed him as she fastened the harness, the rustling exciting Fenton even more so, his gaze constantly switching back and forth between the toy and her hand slowly picking up speed, the shock using the last of it’s sparks…

...only for it to pry away from his hole.

He groaned at the lack, but leaned into her touch as she produced a bottle of lube. Her thumb rubbed little circles into his cheek to distract him, to produce the cutest smile from him, as she prepped the strap for him. Judging from his weariness, Gandra had figured that this week had fucked her boyfriend pretty hard.

So she’d have to outdo it.

She grabbed him by his chin, pulling him into a kiss that muffled his moan when she entered him with one swift move. The kiss turned softer, her moves more focused as she got settled in. Their kiss was like a wave in the ocean; slow and idle when she slowly pulled out, hard and almost aggressive as she slammed back into him. Gandra decided to pin his arms to the bed, not that Fenton struggled in the slightest. She just needed to hold onto him. Keep herself grounded. Grasp onto the only thing in this world that reminded her she was capable of loving—

—she was too in her head. They weren’t lost enough yet.

She didn’t want to pull her mouth off of his, but did anyway. She delighted in his almost sore lips, moaning out her name as she switched to spread his legs, enjoying the view. His dick leaked all over his buttondown, she should have properly undressed him prior. It’s responsive twitching wasn’t quite in rhythm with her thrusts, but to be fair, she was going at quite a pace.

And Gandra felt her own orgasm slowly creeping through at the friction. She bit her lip, her gasps almost harmonious with Fenton’s cacophony of sounds; she always enjoyed how vocal he was. Not only did it turn her on even further, it was just… cute. Unapologetic. Sexy.

She so badly wanted to love him.

“Gandra,” Her name was finally properly uttered and she caressed his face with one hand, smiling down at him when he placed his hand on top of hers.

She leaned down to gently kiss him, only slightly slowing the speed of her thrusts. His legs wrapped around her waist — like she was going anywhere, when she was content to stay like this with him for as long as he’d let her — and one hand clawing at her back. He wouldn’t leave scratch marks, but that was fine. She’d have his hickeys to cover up.

“C’mere,” She surprised herself at how soft her voice was. 

Kept herself inside him as she gently sat both of them up, let him settle in her lap. Grabbed handfuls of his ass, helping him go up and down. Just because she had toned it down didn’t mean she was going completely gentle on him. Gandra could tell he was close by his half lidded eyes, his focused little gaze — like one needed focus to fuck — and his almost, lopsided grin.

Her orgasms always came quietly, not violently and suddenly. She felt the weakness in her hips as he began to ride her, when she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“Fenton,” she murmured, his name falling so easily out of her mouth. 

It felt natural. It felt right. It’s why she swayed towards nicknames. It was wonderful and it terrified her. 

It got his attention.

She grinned and grabbed him by the chin, her voice going husky again, “Touch yourself,” 

He did as she asked. He didn’t need to be told twice. She watched with rapture while he stroked himself and bounced on her faux cock, entirely false but every passionate action it was used for entirely real. It didn’t take long before he made a mess of himself and her as well. He slumped against it and weakly gave it as much as he could, almost trying to overstimulate himself. As enticing as it was to keep going, Gandra kissed the side of his head to assure him it was fine.

She laid him down, carefully removing herself from him and settling by his side.

“How’s that for taking care of you?” she chuckled.

Fenton fumbled to hold her hand, gently squeezing. “Can I use your shower?” 

Gandra lifted their grip and kissed his hand. “Can I join you?”

“No,” he groaned. “Not so soon,”

She giggled — look at what he did to her, making her giggle and take care of him. “Relax, Suit. I’m not trying to break you,” She absentmindedly brushed his bangs out of his face. “At least, not yet. Maybe tomorrow,”

He shivered at her touch and shook his head. “Oh no, I’m making it even tomorrow,”

“Sure you are,” Gandra retorted, rolling her eyes and giving him a playful spank as he got up.

Fenton glanced back, playfully sticking his tongue out at her while he stripped himself of his now-ruined shirt and fumbled around her bedroom in an effort to find a towel. She stretched out and shed her boxers, she definitely needed a new pair after that.

While Fenton went off to take a shower, Gandra found herself still in her head as she got changed.

She hated being this way around him. He deserved better. 

He deserved someone not caught up in their own problems.

He deserved someone not caught up in… everything he was against.

Her phone buzzed with a text—Heron was apparently doing good on her promise. Gandra became aware of her weaker than usual state as she read the date and time she could get her nanite upgrade. With her own technology. Stolen and rebranded, of course, but still  _ hers _ . That they were using and claiming as theirs.

As she heard the water run, she figured now was as good time as any to finish that beer and maybe light up another cigarette. 

Like always, this weekend was going to be a long one. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it this far welcome to hell  
> this fic was made possible by comments like you!  
> ~reagan


End file.
